My Mind (and Yours)

My mind eats itself raw.
But it does not only do that.
My mind makes and creates and remembers and gives and finds and defines and changes.
Not all good things though.
Sometimes it makes and creates and remembers and finds and defines and changes monsters that only I can see and hear and smell and taste and touch. Delicately and hesitantly touch.
My mind eats itself raw, with these monsters among other things, but then it replaces the leftover and hollow and forgotten and chewed emptiness with new, and occasionally good, things.
My mind breaks itself down to make itself up.
But then what mind does not?
My mind is not special or unique.
I am everyone else.
I am you.
You are me.
Therefore, should not your mind also eat itself raw?
Tell me, does it?